Home
by coalitiongirl
Summary: They're convinced that they're from the starship Voyager, so they're branded crazy Trekkies and sent to a mental hospital. It's my assignment to help them reintegrate into society...
1. Chapter 1

_Day 12_

_I think I've finally made some headway with the Trekkies. _

_Normally, before each meal, they stand in front of the toaster oven and make their orders. I remember when I first asked the one who calls himself Chakotay (we've been unable to find out their true names as of yet) why he did that. _

_He'd looked at me strangely. "It's a replicator, isn't it? It seems to be broken."_

"_A…replicator," I'd repeated slowly. Was that a Star Trek thing? I'd been chosen to act as this group's therapist because of the…interesting properties of their delusions. All seven of them had been taken to our facility after attacking the famed John De Lancie at a Star Trek convention, insisting that he take them home. Upon their arrests, they had told the police that they were on a classified mission, and that's when they were committed. All seven were convinced that they were refugees from some Star Trek spaceship, and nothing we said could change that. Once they were officially declared delusional, my bosses had conducted a facility-wide search for a Trekkie. My brother had seen pretty much every episode, so I was drafted. But I knew very little abt the shows. "That…copies things?"_

_The man had shaken his head. "I forget sometimes…a replicator is how, in the future, we get our food. It converts energy into matter." _

"_Aren't you breaking your Prime Directive or something by telling me that?" I'd asked suspiciously._

_Chakotay_ _had shrugged. "At this point, the captain says that we can say what we want. Until our ship comes for us, only the doctors and patients here will know what we've told them about the future, and none of them will believe it. I'm crazy, remember?"_

_Then, his matter-of-fact clarity had been eerie. Now, I was used to it. _

_So I was pleasantly surprised when the woman who calls herself Kathryn walked straight past the toaster oven and sat down immediately. _

_I went over to her. "Kathryn, you didn't…"_

"_No," she agreed. "It's not a replicator, is it?"_

"_No," I conceded gladly. "It isn't."_

_Kathryn smiled and shook her head. "We've been clinging to every little piece of home that we could find in this place. I suppose it's made us stupid."_

"_It's perfectly understandable," I said soothingly. "But this is a giant step for you. Tell me about your home."_

_Kathryn smiled. "I have two homes, really," she explained. "One is on Earth, before I left for the Badlands. The other is on Voyager."_

"_No, Kathryn," I put my hand on her shoulder. "Your home on Earth…tell me about it."_

_A dreamy look filled her eyes as she began to describe the place. It didn't take long for me to figure out that her "Earth" home wasn't her real home, but another fictional future location._

"_Kathryn, none of that is real," I began. "Try to remember- where were you before then?"_

"_Captain." Tom and Harry stood behind us. The two were inseparable, irritatingly so. It was hard to convince Harry of anything with Tom right behind him, keeping him skeptical. "Is she bothering you?"_

_Kathryn smiled at the younger men. "No, it's alright. She's just trying to do her job." They sat down next to her anyway, and glared up at me._

_I sighed. It was going to take a long time to get them to trust me, much less believe me…_

_However, it still didn't stop me from telling Dr. Murray what had happened with Kathryn. "I think she, at least, understands a little more of what reality she's in. She's the leader, too. If she believes us, we're so much closer to helping the rest of them."_

_Murray looked at me sharply. "Are you sure? Because Phase Two could just as easily destroy her." _

_I nodded. "I know. And I don't think that she's ready for Phase Two." I stared up at the shelves behind Murray's head. Seven brand-new seasons from Star Trek: Voyager stared back. "But I'll keep working on them. Maybe if I could watch a few-"_

"_No!" Murray nearly shouted. In a more rational voice, he repeated what he'd told me before. "I don't want you understanding the world they've seen. I want you understanding the world within their minds. There's something very wrong with those seven, and only a healthy dose of real life is going to cure them."_

_I nodded reluctantly. "I'll call my brother again. Maybe he has some ideas."_

_But it wasn't about ideas, I knew. It was about illness. And no knowledge of Star Trek could cure those damaged minds. So no matter what I did or didn't know about Trek, it was all up to me…_


	2. Chapter 2

_Day 18_

_Today, I went for a walk with Tom through the city. Tom informed me once that he was a "history buff" and knew all about twentieth-century Earth, so I thought he might enjoy it more than the others. I knew that I'd have to expose them all to the real world eventually, but until the delusions had broken, it was best that they hear about it from one of their own. _

_He stared with avid interest at the Starbucks in Penn Station. "So that's a 'coffee shop!'" He turned to me. "Is that really where you network on your kneetops and budding writers work on their novels?" _

_I stifled a laugh. "We call them laptops. And yes, that's pretty much what happens in Starbucks." I checked the time. "If you want, we can go in and you can try some of the coffee. What's your favorite blend?"_

_He shrugged. "The captain's a coffee addict. I've barely tried the stuff."_

"_Come on," I said, nudging him playfully. "How'd you get through finals at college without caffeine?"_

_Tom shook his head. "You're not going to stop trying, are you?" He followed me into the Starbucks. "I didn't go to college. I went to Starfleet Academy. And I was expelled."_

"_So how'd you end up with the 'Voyager?'" I asked, unable to contain my curiosity. I made sure to make little quotation marks with my fingers around the word Voyager so as not to get caught up in the story. These delusions were tougher to deal with than any others I had seen. Since they were all based around the television show, all of my patients shared the same delusions. Their world was one that had encompassed decades of television, and attracted millions of fans. It was hard not to get sucked into their unwavering belief in their false selves._

_Tom grinned. "Captain Janeway. She knew my father and wanted me as a guide to find a Maquis ship. When that search landed us in the Delta Quadrant and the ship's pilot was killed, I was reinstated into Starfleet." We were at the counter. "I'll take a regular coffee," he told the teenager behind the counter cheerfully._

_The teen stared at him. "Espresso? Cappuccino? Latte?"_

_Tom turned to me for guidance. "Cappuccino for him, latte for me," I said quickly._

_We took our drinks and sat down. Tom tried his eagerly. "This is fantastic! Doesn't taste anything like our coffee at home," he told me, shuddering._

"_Where is your home?" I pried gently._

_He gave me a look. "When, not where."_

_I shook my head. "You're a really smart guy. You know that this whole time travel thing is impossible."_

"_And it's so much more likely that I've lost my mind?" he asked disbelievingly. "I feel sane, you know. I was at that what-do-you-call-it. Convention. Those people walking around with shaved heads and Bajoran noses, they know that it's just a game and they'll be back to normal the next day. But I saw a few guys there, older ones, who genuinely thought that they were a part of my world. _They _were crazy. They were convinced that they were admirals and captains, but they couldn't tell you anything about exobiology or most of Starfleet history. Commit them to a mental hospital- it's all false and they don't even know it. But us? Tuvok can teach courses given at Starfleet Academy. Captain Janeway could lecture you for hours on Borg psychology. We have all the background that your so-called 'crazy Trekkies' lack. And you know us. We're normal in every way other than that we're from the future. How can you call us insane?"_

_I considered. "The most terrifying delusionary is the one who seems totally sane." _

"_So that's it." Tom was getting angry. "No matter how believable our claim is, you'll never accept it."_

"_Tom…" I took a sip of my coffee. "I'm not trying to undermine your beliefs. Star Trek is obviously very important to you, but you have to think about this rationally. There's no way that-"_

"_Isn't there?" he asked, cutting me off. "If I were really from the future, don't you think that my technology would be more advanced than yours, maybe to the point that we could do all the things you think are impossible?"_

"_Then how do we know about the future?" I asked, folding my arms. "What are the odds that a TV show would come out depicting all of your adventures? And not just your world. From what my brother tells me, the characters on Star Trek: Voyager are the ones that you believe you are."_

_Tom actually looked disturbed. "I don't know. Actually, that's one thing we're trying to work out. Who could possibly know enough about us to make this show? We haven't seen it, but the pictures, the profiles…they're us and the rest of our crew. The only reason we've been able to come up with is that another temporal anomaly will-"_

_I threw up my hands. "Would you _listen _to yourself???"_

_Tom looked at me seriously. "It sounds absurd to you because you think what you think. But we know who we are."_

"_No doubts?" I challenged him. "You're still completely convinced?"_

_Tom paused for a moment before confirming the fact. A fraction of a second. That was all. But it was enough for me to count it as the tiniest hint of a breakthrough._


End file.
